


habituous

by izumidos



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Gen, Sad, Smoking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izumidos/pseuds/izumidos
Summary: old habits die hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd + written super late lol
> 
> this totally isn't a trainwreck at all.

** i. **

The first time you meet Hyun Ryu, he is just that; he has no stage name, no fame, but a pain in his red eyes.

He takes a drag from his cigarette.

You strike up a conversation; both of you had nothing else to do, nowhere to go, and no one to return to, you learn. You admit that you like the guy more after learning those similarities.

He smells like the tobacco from his cigars; he tells you his favorite is the Black Angel brand. You don't know the brand, and you don't really care enough, so you're not picky when you ask to smoke some of his cigar.

You spend the rest of the night sitting next to him on the curb under a moonless sky; he's nice enough to give you his phone number and few of his own cigars for you to have.

You debate whether or not you should crumple the paper up, but in the end, you don't. You figure you'll give him a chance.

He ends up calling the next day.

**ii.**

The next few weeks go by in a steady blur; the only thing you could pinpoint were the nights that the two of you spent, still smoking, still underneath a night sky.

You learn a lot about each other.

He's interested in becoming a musical actor - and slowly succeeding, you note - and excercising apparently; you end up joking about how much of a workaholic he was, always devoting his time to something relating to his occupation.

He jokes back, asking you for your interests, so you tell him. It's nothing much compared to his, and there were no deeper reasons behind them; you just found an interest in them for the time being.

You learn even more: that he doesn't focus on the negatives much, that he's a hopeless romantic, that his nickname is Zen, and that he loved himself far too much that what was considered normal.

But while you listened to his rambling, you learn something about yourself: you're entirely enamored by Hyun Ryu.

You ignore it and take the cigar from his hands; he doesn't mind, like usual, and just takes it back when you're done.

It's starting to become a habit.

 

**iii.**

Like smoking, your game of hiding your feelings for him became a habit.

The nights under the sky become a habit too; everything you do with him is one now. Maybe it wasn't healthy, depending on each other too much, but you're smoking cigarettes like there's no tomorrow, so maybe healthy was never a thing in this friendship.

He brings two large bottles of the strongest alcohol he knew one night; the smell is repungant when you open it, strong and acrid and cheap. But recently, you've dealt with so much shit that maybe you just don't care anymore.

So, you open it up and just drink.

The taste is horrible, burning your throat and tongue and everything in general. You keep drinking anyway because most alcohols weren't there to taste good; they were there so you could drink yourself stupid because life is stupid and painul sometimes

The shit taste doesn't get any better, but there's a buzzing in your head that you can't deny feels comforting. You're pretty sure Zen is finished with his, but you don't bother rushing.

The bottle is near empty when you finally talk; it's slurred and messy and vulgar and the loud, fiery type of angry.

You ramble on about things you know you shouldn't, but you do anyway; like Zen and your crush on him.

Especially Zen and your crush on him.

But he doesn't seem to realize, doesn't seem affected, just like the times before when you turned red in his vicinity; doesn't notice how you sit closer to him after every meeting; doesn't seem to care how much effort you put into investing yourself into him.

You're slightly bitter, mostly angry in a cold, quiet kind of way; it gets worse when he ends up noticing your nearly silent anger first and not your affection for him.

You don't bring it up, though. You just continue on with your life, hoping you'll find a way to make him realize. Maybe it'll just take time that you don't want to wait.

If you actually get time that is, you laugh bitterly, swallowing the last of the drink.

 

**iv.**

You both end up getting closer.

You end up kissing him.

 

**v.**

He disappears.

 

**vi.**

He comes back. With a girl.

You learn her name is MC, and you say that she's beautiful; she giggles and blushes, hiding red cheeks underneath glossy, brown locks.

You want to hate her. You want to grab her and punch her in the face until she is crying and bleeding because then maybe she can understand how you feel and maybe Zen can finally fucking see how you feel.

But you don't. You can't.

She's genuinely beautiful with gentle words and skin unmarred by years of bad habits and warm eyes that it's impossible for you to hate her; it would have been impossible for him to not love her.

So, you admit defeat.

Your heart is in your throat as Zen leans down, giving her a kiss; one that reminded you far too much of the one you shared before he disappeared.

…to be with her.

You stifle a choked sob, brushing away their concerns with a wild laugh, saying it was you snorting, and congratulate them; you joke with her about his habits you still remember, tell her the interests you still remember, and bite back the kiss you still remember.

You don't know if he remembers any of those things, any of those memories you had created and shared together. You want to bring it up, throw their relationship into turmoil and take him home to make him feel better.

But Zen is smiling, and it's so free and beautiful and not yours.

And he was never meant to be yours.

You smile anyway.

Neither of them notice when you leave instantly, the moment after their kiss, your congratulations, and the sound of your heartache.

 

**vii.**

His face is in the newspapers now, deemed the newest musical legend in all of South Korea; in all of the photos, the girl he came back with was there.

They're both smiling still, grins as bright as the diamond on her ring; you hear that they're calling her Mrs. Zen now.

Hyun Ryu is no longer Hyun Ryu in your still bitter mind; he has a stage name now, all the fame he had wished for, and no pain in his red eyes. He's no longer the boy who loved to smoke cigarettes with you under the night sky; he's no longer the boy you shared a kiss with…

…he's no longer in your life.

You think back to all those weeks spent together, learning about him before you realized how you loved him so. You end up learning one more thing about yourself: you are a fool.

So, you delete his phone number,

crumple the paper with his number that you had still kept,

and take a drag from his cigarette.


End file.
